


The Sea of Souls

by kathkin



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (1963)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-15
Updated: 2018-04-15
Packaged: 2019-04-23 09:13:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14329257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kathkin/pseuds/kathkin
Summary: On that nameless planet, there was nothing but the desert and the sea, and the sea was alive.





	The Sea of Souls

“It’s so still,” said Zoe.

There was no wind. The air was scentless. At their backs, the soft, powdery dunes, stretching out in low hillocks for hundreds of miles. Ahead of them, an endless, shallow sea.

The ocean was pinkish in colour, but up close so clear that every pebble and grain of sand was visible. Its surface shimmered in the sun, slightly iridescent but unmoving.

“They call it the Sea of Souls,” said the Doctor. “Or else, they will one day, I, I suppose. Don’t touch the water.”

Zoe crouched at the edge of the sea, keeping her toes well back from the edge. “It’s not water,” she said. Even on visual inspection she could tell the consistency wasn’t right. The substance that made up the sea was more viscous, something like loose jelly. “What is it?”

“It’s spooky, is what it is,” said Jamie, stood cautiously back from the water line.  
Zoe ignored him. “Doctor?”

“It’s not a sea, strictly speaking,” said the Doctor. Stretching out his arms he faced the ocean. “It’s a single organism. All two hundred million square miles of it – a single lifeform. Fascinating, isn’t it?”

Rising, Zoe looked at the distant, pink horizon. It was difficult to comprehend, life on that scale. Just as it was difficult to wrap one’s head around a microbe, this entity – a macrobe, she supposed – was too unfathomably alien to make sense of. On that nameless planet, there was nothing but the desert and the sea, and the sea was alive.

“Why do they call it the Sea of Souls?” said Jamie, startling her out of her contemplation.

That, she realised, was a very good question and possibly a pressing one. “Yes,” she said. “Why do they?”

“Partly poetic license, I suppose,” said the Doctor. “And partly – well, mind you stay well away from the water.”

“It isn’t water,” said Zoe stubbornly.

“Is it dangerous?” said Jamie.

“Very,” said the Doctor. “What you’re looking at – is one of the most powerful psychic forces this side of the Andromeda galaxy.”

Zoe looked out over the sea, a silent mass of jelly. She supposed he must be right – unless he was making some kind of obscure joke – but she couldn’t quite imagine it. “What do you mean?” she said.

“Hm.” The Doctor rubbed his chin in thought. “Well – well you see, there’s a story about this place.”

Trust him, Zoe thought, not to answer the question directly.

“You see, they say people used to live here – millions and millions of people,” said the Doctor. “And somehow – opinions differ, ah, as to why – one day, all of them stopped what they were doing, came together, and – whoosh! The Sea of Souls.”

“They all – melted into jelly?” said Zoe.

The Doctor’s eyebrows slumped in dismay. “That’s about the least interesting way to look at it,” he said. “But – yes, I suppose they did. That’s the story.” He looked at her expectantly, obviously wanting to know what she’d make of it.

As it happened, she didn’t think much of it. It was fairly obviously a myth concocted to explain a bizarre natural phenomenon. She did have one pressing question, but Jamie voiced it first.

“What makes it dangerous?” he said.

“I was coming to that,” said the Doctor. “You see, it’s intelligent, in its own way – not intelligent like you or I, or, or not necessarily even conscious, but intelligent.”

“And psychic?” said Zoe.

“Very psychic,” said the Doctor. “It has an extraordinarily powerful psychic field. It can absorb living minds by – well, I suppose by a kind of psychic osmosis.” Semi-consciously Zoe took a step back. “No, no, don’t worry. It’s quite safe as long as you don’t touch it.”

“If you touch it, do you turn into jelly?” said Jamie.

“Ye-es,” said the Doctor. “Probably. Do you know, I don’t suppose anyone knows precisely what happens.” He turned his eyes to the pink horizon. “They say all that’s left of the people of this world is their singing.”

For a moment it was as if he had quite forgotten Jamie and Zoe were on the beach. His expression turned absent – not sombre, as Zoe had already come to expect in situations like this, but rather somehow wistful.

But then he shook himself, and smiling said, “shall we go for a walk? Stretch the old legs.”

Not waiting for an answer – which was just as well, because Zoe had been going to suggest that there was nothing to see – he turned and sauntered off up the dune.

Rolling her eyes, Zoe looked to Jamie for some sympathy and found him gazing out at the sea. “Do you think it’s true?” he said.

“What’s true?” said Zoe.

“About all the people.”

“I don’t see how it could be,” said Zoe. “It’s fairly obviously a myth concocted to –” He wasn’t really listening. “Well, anyway, scientifically it’s quite impossible. And that thing the Doctor said about them singing – that’s obviously romantic nonsense. I mean, it doesn’t make any noise.”

Jamie looked at her, frowning. “You dinnae hear anything?”

“No,” said Zoe. “Of course not.” What sort of a question was that?

“Oh, aye,” said Jamie, and just like the Doctor she had the impression he was shaking himself. “Me neither. C’mon, we’d best catch him up.”

*

They caught the Doctor up atop the next dune, where he was stomping happily along the sand. “Could we not,” said Zoe, struggling to catch up with him on the loose terrain, “go for a walk somewhere more interesting?”

“More interesting?” said the Doctor. “My word, Zoe – this is one of the great natural wonders of the universe and you want to go somewhere _more interesting_? Well, really!”

“It’s no’ much to look at,” said Jamie. “And it’s hot.”

“You think everywhere’s too hot,” said the Doctor. “I’ll have you know we’re very lucky. If I’m right, we ought to be the only people on the planet.”

If anything, Zoe reflected, that only made the place more off-putting. She looked for a moment not at the sea but at the desert, mile upon mile of it, all of it empty and devoid of life. “Do people not come here to study it?” she said.

“Oh, they do,” said the Doctor. “Droves and droves of people.” He stamped off along the shore. “Scientists – and tourists – and pilgrims – but not yet. No, I’d say we’re at least a thousand years too early.”

“You mean, it’s no’ been discovered yet?” said Jamie.

“That’s right,” said the Doctor.

“What do you mean, pilgrims?” said Zoe.

“Well, Zoe,” said the Doctor, in that kindly way he had of speaking when he was sure he’d found something he understood and she didn’t (which was less often than he’d like and more often than she’d admit to). “For a lot of people – any number of species – this is a site of great spiritual significance.”

Zoe scoffed. She couldn’t help it. Ordinarily she mightn’t be so openly disdainful but this thing, this entity, had her on edge.

“Now, really, Zoe,” said the Doctor. “As I said, one of the great natural wonders of time and space – you can hardly blame people for, for ascribing significance to it. And its existence is something of a marvel –”

“I understand all that,” said Zoe. “I just don’t understand why anyone would want to go on a _pilgrimage_ to something so dangerous.”

“Quite safe so long as you stay back from the edge,” the Doctor reminded her. “And so long as you –”

“Someone could slip and fall in,” said Zoe. “And then – jelly. It’s reckless.”

“You can go back to the TARDIS if you want,” said the Doctor, a little tartly.

“Not likely,” said Zoe. If the Doctor wanted to – to sightsee, or to study this thing, whatever he was doing, she wasn’t about to leave him to it.

“Anyhow,” said the Doctor. “The sea’s, well, unique psychic properties are what makes it so – well, so spiritually attractive.” He crunched on up the dune.

“You’re not saying –” Zoe hurried after him. “You’re not saying people come here because they _want_ it to – to –” _Eat them_ was the first phrase that sprang to mind. “Assimilate them?”

“Not exactly,” said the Doctor. They reached the crest of the dune and he ambled down, Zoe slipping and slithering at his heels. “You see, Zoe –”

“Yes?” said Zoe. This whole conversation was getting quite grating.

“Supposedly, people see things – out there,” said the Doctor.

“What kinds of things?” said Zoe.

“All kinds of things,” said the Doctor. “Lights are most common, I understand – it generates a kind of, well I suppose a kind of psychic aurora. But also – hm.” He stuffed his hands into pockets and turning gazed out at the sea.

“Also?” Zoe prompted. “What else does it make people see?”

“As I said,” said the Doctor. “All kinds of things. The prevailing theory is that the sea acts as a kind of psychic mirror to the soul. People look into it, and they see whatever they want to see. Things – places – people.”

“People?” said Zoe. Looking out to sea, she saw nothing but an expanse of stationary, pink liquid.

“They say,” said the Doctor. “That some people see those they’ve lost – the souls of the departed.”

“Ohh,” said Zoe. “Hence the name?”

“Quite,” said the Doctor. “And so – well, well yes. Some people will come here intending to join in, or choose to once they’ve arrived.”

“Because they think their dead loved ones are in there?” said Zoe. What a horrifying concept.

“Not all of them,” said the Doctor. “Some of them think of the sea as an opportunity to become part of something greater than themselves. That’s an important concept in, ah, many religions –”

“Yes, I’m familiar,” said Zoe. Looking out over the sea, it was so hard to imagine it might be dangerous, when it was so still, so empty. “People really – give themselves to it?”

“Occasionally,” said the Doctor. “Yes. Fascinating, isn’t it?”

“I think it’s horrible,” said Zoe.

“Really?” the Doctor’s eyebrows arched up. “You don’t think there’s a certain, hm, poetry about it?”

“Not remotely,” said Zoe. “It’s sick, and it’s creepy, and I want to go – what’s that?”

“Hm?” the Doctor followed her gaze.

For a moment Zoe was terrified he might not see it, that whatever force lay out there might have got into her mind. Out over the pink sea, mist was gathering, thick and white. There was no wind to move it. It rose from the surface of the sea like steam from boiling water and there collected into denser and denser clouds.

“How curious,” said the Doctor. 

“Why’s it doing that?” said Zoe.

“I’ve no idea,” said the Doctor. “I’ve never heard of it producing mist.”

“It is real mist, isn’t it?” said Zoe. “We’re not hallucinating.”

“Oh no, it’s quite real,” said the Doctor. “Hm. Well, I suppose we’ve made a scientific discovery.”

“How so?” said Zoe. “Just because you’ve never heard of it doesn’t mean we’re the first ones to see it.”

“Ah, but chronologically, Zoe –”

“That hardly counts, Doctor,” said Zoe. “I mean, by that logic you could go back in time and be the first to discover anything you wanted.”

“Hm,” said the Doctor. “You’re no fun.” He kicked at the sand, sending a soft lump into the jelly, where slowly it settled.

It was the quiet that was the most unnerving part. At a glance it didn’t look so different from any other sea but when they stopped talking the silence was all but absolute. No wind, no waves, no birds. Nothing but the sea, stretching to the horizon.

It was, now that she thought about it, far too quiet. She glanced back the way they’d come, and saw – “Where’s Jamie?” she said.

“Hm?” The Doctor looked up from the sea bed, and looking about himself saw what she had seen. 

They stood alone on the shore. Two sets of loose footprints led down the dune to where they were standing – their own footprints. 

“Jamie?” called the Doctor, that one word hanging in the still air. “He was just behind us. Jamie?”

Zoe strained her ears for an answering shout, but none came. Now that she thought of it, he hadn’t spoken for several minutes. She’d been too wrapped up in their conversation to notice how uncharacteristically quiet he was being.

_Scrunch scrunch scrunch_. The Doctor had begun to scramble back up the dune, and she followed him. From the crest she could see only their own footprints. Out over the sea, the mist was growing still thicker.

“Jamie!” the Doctor called out again, cupping his hands around his mouth. “Jamie!”

Zoe joined him. “Jamie!” 

Still there was no answer. Even if he had, for some reason, wandered off in a different direction, he couldn’t possibly have got out of earshot. And why would he? There was nowhere to go.

She thought of her own comment about slipping and falling in, and felt a little sick. “Perhaps he went back to the TARDIS,” she ventured.

“Ye-es,” said the Doctor, as unnerved as she was.

Retracing their steps, they made their way down the dune and along the shore to the next. Zoe kept her eyes on the ground but still saw only their own footprints. 

A little way off she saw something, a dark scratch against the sand. Drawing closer she saw three sets of footprints; their own, and Jamie’s, abruptly ceasing. Beside her the Doctor picked up the pace, hurrying along the sand, and she followed.

It was only then that she realised what she was looking at. Jamie’s shoes, abandoned on the beach, a scant thirty centimetres from the sea edge. His footprints, loose, already half filled by the shifting sand, led to them. No footprints led away.

There were some things, Zoe was rapidly learning, that defied all logic. As the Doctor crouched, picking up one of Jamie’s discarded shoes, she looked on in sheer disbelief. “Doctor,” she said. “Doctor – he couldn’t possibly have.”

Slowly, still absurdly holding the shoe, the Doctor rose to his feet.

“He couldn’t be that stupid,” said Zoe. “Not after what you said. No-one could be that stupid.” But even as she said it, she saw faint, fading ripples on the sea, marks where it had recently disturbed preserved in its viscous surface.

“No,” said the Doctor in a low voice. “I don’t imagine he would be that stupid. But he might be that vulnerable.”

“What do you mean, vulnerable?” She thought back over what the Doctor had said. “Doctor – Doctor, you said it could be dangerous even if you don’t touch it.”

“Quite,” said the Doctor. He let Jamie’s shoe fall to the sand, where it thumped down on its side. His socks, Zoe saw, were inside. Had he planned on coming back? What could he have been thinking? 

“Zoe,” said the Doctor. “Wait here.”

“What?” said Zoe. He was already leaning down to unlace his own shoes. “What are you _doing_?”

“Going after Jamie.” The Doctor stepped out of his shoes and began rolling up his trouser legs.

“But you can’t,” said Zoe. “Doctor, you said we mustn’t touch it or –”

“I know what I said,” said the Doctor. “But I, well, I’ll be able to handle it, probably.”

“What does that mean, handle it?” said Zoe. “What if it’s too late? What if you both just –” She couldn’t find the words. The only one to come to mind was _jelly_.

“Zoe.” The Doctor took her by the shoulders. “Stay here. Wait ten minutes and then go back to the TARDIS. Fast return switch will take you away from here.”

“You can’t be –”

“Don’t worry,” said the Doctor. “I’ll find him.” He smiled at her kindly and then before she could argue, he released her and stepped into the sea.

“Doctor!” she called after him, but without looking back he splashed away into the pink sea, swallowed almost at once by the rising mist. He was gone. They were both gone. She was alone.

*

He hadn’t noticed, at once, what was so strange about the sea. It looked normal enough, save for the colour. It was only when Jamie had been standing on the shore for some minutes that he noticed it, the incongruity.

The sea sounded just as it should, a steady hum of waves rising and breaking. But it was still. There was no movement, just an expanse of clear, still liquid stretching to the horizon. And yet over it all a ceaseless crashing of waves.

It wasn’t waves, that he was hearing; nor was it singing. It was something like music, tuneless and yet strangely beautiful. A humming, a resonance, like glass chimes. He didn’t know how he’d mistaken it for waves crashing.

And somehow Zoe didn’t hear it.

He tore his eyes away from the sea and found that the Doctor and Zoe had kept walking without him. He’d stopped to better listen to the music and now they were over the crest of a dune, the Doctor’s cheerful scientific ramblings fading into the distance. He ought to catch up. 

With a sigh, he made to follow them – but then from out over the sea he heard a sound, almost but not quite a voice. Like someone singing very far away.

As he turned to look out to sea, he heard it again but this time where was no mistaking it. “Jamie!”

It wasn’t possible, that there could be someone out there calling his name. They were the only people on the planet. The Doctor had said so. He was on the point of calling out to the Doctor when he heard it again.

“Ja-mie!”

That voice. He knew that voice. But it wasn’t possible – it was beyond impossible. Swallowing, he looked out over the sea. The air was growing misty, fog rising from the pinkish jelly. Again, from that mist, the voice called his name. “Jamie!”

“Hello?” he called back.

“Jamie! Jamie, come here,” the voice said.

“I cannae,” said Jamie. “You – you come here.” He knew even as he said it that it wouldn’t work.

“Jamie, please come here,” said the voice. “I want to see you.”

He ought to walk away. He ought to run after the Doctor and Zoe and tell them what he’d heard and then they could work this out together – whatever it was. But the thought of walking away, of leaving whoever was out there behind made his chest ache. 

The Doctor had said the sea was dangerous. He said they mustn’t touch it. And yet he wasn’t scared. Something ought there was calling him, not just his name but something else, something deep inside him. He ached with – what was he feeling? It felt like homesickness, but he’d never been to this place. And yet he ached with homesick longing.

Crouching, he unlaced his boots.

The sea was warm. He’d known it would be. It lapped around his calves, thicker than water but easy to walk through. He could feel, touching it, that it was alive. The thought didn’t bother him, as it had while he was standing on the shore. It felt safe. This was a sea he couldn’t drown him, a sea that didn’t mean him away harm.

The mist closed around him. Looking back, he found he’d already lost sight of the shore. Looking ahead he found that the mist wasn’t white, as he’d thought, but pink and green and blue and yellow, all different colours rippling within it. 

Ahead, the mist parted – and standing barefoot in the sea, there she was, smiling at him, her eyes so very bright.

“I thought it was you,” he said.

“Jamie!” Victoria exclaimed. “You found me.”

“This – isnae possible,” said Jamie. “You cannae be here.”

“Anything’s possible,” said Victoria. “I thought you’d know that by now.”

“We left you behind,” said Jamie. “You cannae be here.”

“I can so,” said Victoria.

“I’m seeing things,” he said, realising the full truth of the words as he said them. He didn’t know why, if it was some property of the sea or just his own mind breaking but he was seeing things.

“Don’t be silly, Jamie,” she said fondly. “Here.” She offered him her hands.

Sensing a trap, Jamie shook his head.

“Go on,” she said. “It’s only me.”

Well, he supposed, there was only one way to be sure. Stepping forward, very tentatively, he reached for her, took her hands.

Her hands were warm, and soft, and real and as her fingers tangled with his for a moment he believed it, believed with every fibre of his being that she was really there. Without a thought he took her in his arms, holding her close, and she threw her arms around him in return. She felt warm and solid, every detail of her exactly as it should be, even the smell of her hair.

“I don’t understand,” he said, still holding her hands. “How can you be here?”

Victoria said simply, “the sea.”

“What does that mean?” said Jamie. And despite himself he thought _this is a trick_.

“I came to find you,” said Victoria. Her hand cautiously touched his face, cupping his cheek. “I missed you.”

With that he was lost. Helpless, he kissed her, kissed her and kissed her, the way he’d always wanted to, and she kissed back just the same. His hands, moving of their own accord, tangled in her hair, and her mouth was sweet and soft and perfect – everything about her was perfect.

It was too perfect. “No,” he said, pulling away. “You’re no’ real.”

“Of course I’m real,” she said, looking up at him, her eyes shining.

“Aye, mibbe so,” he said. “But you’re no’ Victoria.”

“Does it matter?” she said, in Victoria’s voice.

“Of course it matters!”

“Why?” She said it so earnestly, and he knew that somehow, she truly didn’t understand. Looking into her eyes then he saw her more clearly. She was an image, something strange and faraway and alien wearing Victoria’s face like a mask.

“Who are you really?” he said.

“You know who I am,” said Victoria.

“Do I?” said Jamie.

There were lights dancing on the surface of the sea, soothing blue and white and yellow lights. It was so warm, so soft against his skin. It would be so easy, he realised, to lie down in it and let himself fall asleep. He felt like he’d been running for years and it would be so easy to just rest, for a little while or maybe a long while.

Her hand brushed his face. “It’s not like falling asleep,” she said gently. “It’s like waking up. It’s like never being alone.”

“That sounds nice,” he said.

“You can stay with me,” she said. “You can stay forever if you want.”

“I’d like that.” He was ever-increasingly aware that calm as he felt, part of him was shouting, screaming _run_. His mouth worked, no words coming for a long moment. “I cannae.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know,” he confessed. “I don’t remember.” There’d been a reason, he was sure. The Doctor had said this place was dangerous but he didn’t see any danger. He was too tired to think it through. His shoulders slumping, he rested his forehead on hers. “Why’d you have to leave?”

“I didn’t want to,” she said. “I was scared. I’m sorry – I’m so sorry.” She squeezed his hand. “I want to be with you.”

“I know you do,” he said.

“I love you,” said Victoria.

A shiver ran through him, a shiver of fearful delight. “No. You don’t.” Summoning up every last ounce of will he had, he stepped away from her.

The surface of the sea was bubbling around his ankles like boiling water, lights flashing and dancing in the water and the mist like fish and birds. Looking around himself, he didn’t remember which way was back to the shore. He knew what was happening, even if he didn’t understand it, and he knew it was too late.

He wasn’t scared. He felt as if he ought to be, but he wasn’t. Already he found himself accepting what was happening, not just resigned but relieved.

He looked at Victoria. She was smiling at him so fondly, and she stretched out her hands, reaching for him as she had before. “I _love_ you.”

“I love you too,” he said. He took a step towards her.

“Jamie!” A cry. Not close but not so far away. A voice – a real voice – the Doctor’s voice. He swung around reflexively but didn’t reply. He wasn’t sure he wanted to. “Jamie!” the Doctor cried again.

Part of him desperately didn’t want to be found. But hearing the Doctor calling his name woke up some deeper instinct, a hunger for survival. He found his tongue. “Doctor?”

“Jamie?” the Doctor called, closer now. “Where are you?”

He wanted to call back, _here, I’m here_ but couldn’t bring himself to do it. He stood frozen, not daring to call out, not daring to step closer to Victoria, to the inevitable.

“Jamie!” A splashing, close by, and in the mist a hazy figure that solidified into the Doctor, dashing through the sea, barefoot, his trousers tied absurdly around his knees. At the sight of Jamie his face lit up in delighted relief. “Jamie! Oh, thank goodness.”

“Doctor,” said Jamie. “You shouldnae be here. It’s no’ safe.”

“I came after you,” said the Doctor. Was he angry with Jamie, for doing this? Jamie couldn’t say.

“You shouldn’t have,” he said.

“Jamie.” A voice behind him. He turned to look at her, found her still reaching for him. Her eyes had grown sad. “Come here. Please?” She sounded so plaintive, he ached to go to her.

“Jamie,” said the Doctor urgently, and Jamie tore his gaze away from Victoria. “Jamie, whatever you’re seeing it isn’t real. It’s the sea, the, the psychic matrix –”

“I know it’s no’,” said Jamie.

“You do?” said the Doctor.

Jamie shrugged. He’d known all along, on some level. He just wasn’t sure he cared. 

“Then what are you doing out here?” the Doctor said.

“I –” The lights in the sea were moving so quickly now, buzzing about like angry bees. He could feel bubbles swelling and bursting against his skin. “I don’t know. I don’t know what I’m doing, Doctor.” The noise, the music, it didn’t sound like music any more. It sounded like bells ringing and it was so _loud_ , so loud inside his skull, like his head was inside a church bell. Squeezing his eyes shut he clapped his hands over his ears. “That _noise_ –”

“I know, Jamie,” said the Doctor. “I hear it too. It’s alright. It’s not too late.”

“It is,” said Jamie. Behind him Victoria was calling his name and it was as one with the ringing of the bells. His knees were weak, any moment now he was going to fall, going to sink down into the sea and then he’d be lost, then he’d wake up.

“Of course it isn’t,” said the Doctor. “You’re still here, aren’t you?”

He opened his eyes. The Doctor was so close by, but the thought of crossing the distance between them was exhausting, unthinkable. 

The Doctor held out his hand. “Jamie, come along,” he said. “Walk to me, now, there’s a good lad.”

“I can’t,” said Jamie.

“Yes, you can,” said the Doctor.

“Jamie,” Victoria said, and he couldn’t help but look at her. “I still love you. Stay with me – please – stay forever.”

“It’s no’ real,” said Jamie.

“That’s right,” said the Doctor encouragingly. “It’s not real. It’s just an image – from your subconscious. You don’t have to do what it wants. It’s up to you.”

Jamie didn’t look at him. His eyes were trained on Victoria, her impossibly perfect face and smile. With the Doctor there it was easier to think.

What she was offering was the path of least resistance. It would be so easy, and he ached for it. He didn’t even have to go to her, he realised. If he just closed his eyes, and surrendered –

“Jamie,” said the Doctor, his tone growing frantic, jolting Jamie out of his reverie. “Come home. Please?”

With the last scrap of will in his body, he wrenched his eyes away from Victoria. It was the look in the Doctor’s eyes that did it – a look of fearful desperation. He couldn’t bear that. Steeling himself, ignoring the wailing in his head, he began to walk.

The sea was thick and seemed to resist him, pushing back against his feet. It didn’t want to let him go and he didn’t want it to. But he kept walking. 

Then abruptly the Doctor was close, so close he could reach out – could touch his fingers – could take his hand. He clasped the Doctor’s hand and the Doctor squeezed back, and then with a quick tugged pulled him forward.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“Don’t be,” said the Doctor. Now that Jamie was close he could see tears swimming in his eyes and he didn’t know how to feel. “Come on. Let’s go home.” He squeezed Jamie’s shoulder and guided him towards the shore.

Looking back over his shoulder, Jamie saw the thing that looked like Victoria, not looking sad or afraid but simply hopeful, as if he might still come back to her. Then the mist closed around her. She was a vague, smudgy figure – and she was gone.

*

Thought she kept count of the seconds, though Zoe knew it was only minutes before the Doctor came back, waiting on the beach was agony. The mist grew steadily thicker, the sea taking on a heavy, bleak aspect. She had all but given up hope when at last she saw movement.

They came out of the mist, the Doctor leading Jamie by the arm. Neither of them said a word as they approached the beach. Jamie snatched his arm from the Doctor’s grip.

As they stepped from the sea to the sand, the mist at last began to clear.

Still Jamie said nothing, even as Zoe looked at him expectantly for an explanation. He sat down heavily and tugged on his socks.

Zoe said, “are you alright?”

“No,” said Jamie, shoving his feet into his shoes and pulling the laces viciously tight.

“Do you want to talk about it?” she said.

“No,” said Jamie, and standing he stomped up the beach and away.

The Doctor coughed gently. “I think we’d best be getting back to the TARDIS,” he said. “It’s time we were going.”

“I don’t think we should ever have come,” said Zoe.

The Doctor looked out over the sea, where the last scraps of mist were rising into the empty blue sky. “Perhaps not.”

*

“I brought you some tea,” said the Doctor.

Peering around the edge of his bedroom door, Jamie rubbed at his face. “Oh. Thanks.” He accepted the mug, but didn’t drink from it. The TARDIS had been in flight for a few hours. Jamie didn’t think they would be landing soon.

In the corridor, the Doctor stood dithering, wringing his hands and saying nothing.

“Ye can come in,” said Jamie, pulling the door fully open.

“Oh!” said the Doctor, shuffling into his bedroom, where he hovered on the rug. He rarely ventured into Jamie’s private space. His eyes darted over the bed, the cluttered floor, not knowing where to settle.

“Ye can sit,” said Jamie, sitting on the edge of his mattress.

“Oh – yes,” said the Doctor, perching gingerly beside him.

They sat in silence. Jamie turned the mug of tea in his hands, feeling the warmth but not drinking it. He didn’t have any appetite for tea. He’d come into his bedroom meaning to sleep, tired down to his bones, but found he couldn’t. It was as if he was slightly outside his body, as if his skin was an ill-fitting shirt.

“I thought you might want some space,” said the Doctor at length.

“Hm?” said Jamie, startled.

“I hope I wasn’t wrong –”

“Aye – no,” said Jamie. “I’ve been thinking.”

“Not too hard, I hope?” said the Doctor. When Jamie didn’t smile he cleared his throat and said, “how are you feeling?”

“Tired.” Jamie toyed with the handle of his mug. He didn’t know how to put the sensation into words. It was like waking up from an unusually vivid dream.

“Will you – be alright?” said the Doctor.

“I’m no’ sure,” said Jamie. “Thanks for the tea.”

“I do hope I did the right thing,” said the Doctor, clasping his hands together.

“Making tea?” said Jamie.

“No – no, I mean – well, I, I’d have to hate to have taken you away from something that you wanted?”

“Eh?” Jamie blinked at him, too tired and numb to process fully the meaning of what the Doctor had said. “You thought I wanted tae –”

“I wasn’t sure,” said the Doctor quickly.

“Of course I didn’t want tae – I – I just –” Jamie’s shoulders slumped in dismay. He wasn’t good with words at the best of times. “It’s hard to explain.”

“You don’t have to.”

“It wasnae something I wanted. It just seemed easier.” Jamie stared down into the brownish depths of his tea. “Thank you. For bringing me home.” He breathed in. “And I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” said the Doctor, very earnestly.

“No, I – I knew what would happen and I did it anyway,” said Jamie. “And I don’t even know why I did it.”

“I don’t know if you could have stopped yourself,” said the Doctor. “It was – very powerful.”

“I’m just glad you got there when you did,” said Jamie to his mug.

“So am I.” The Doctor squeezed his shoulder. Glancing at him, Jamie mustered a smile. “May I ask,” said the Doctor. “What did you see?”

Jamie looked at him sharply. The question alone made him feel as if he’d been stripped bare.

“You don’t have to tell me,” the Doctor said.

“Later,” said Jamie. “Mibbe.” He sipped his tea. “Thanks – for this.”

“Shall I leave you be?” said the Doctor.

“If you like,” said Jamie.

“I can stay – if you’d rather,” said the Doctor.

“I don’t know what I’d rather,” said Jamie. “My head’s all – I don’t know.” Looking at the Doctor, he said, “I feel a bit out of sorts,” which was certainly an understatement.

“You were under the influence of a tremendous psychic force,” said the Doctor. “It’s only natural that you feel a bit, well – well, strange.”

“Strange how?” said Jamie.

“Drained,” said the Doctor. “Disassociated – apart from yourself, I mean. Low-level psychic shock. It’ll pass.”

“Aye,” said Jamie, nodding to himself. “Good.” He heaved a deep sigh. “I’m tired.”

“I’ll leave you be,” said the Doctor. He patted Jamie’s shoulder, and tip-toed from the room.

*

“You’ve been very quiet,” said Zoe. She wanted to add _it’s not like you and I don’t like it_ but thought better of it. It had been almost eighteen hours since whatever had happened happened – twelve since Jamie had come out of hiding.

“Aye,” Jamie agreed. “I’ve been thinking a lot.”

“Are you feeling better?”

“Better,” Jamie echoed. “Aye.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” said Zoe. She was fairly sure that was the right thing to say – but she did so want to know what had happened. The Doctor had been cagey and she had the impression he thought it was Jamie’s private business. There was a secret here she might never learn and that nagged at her.

“Mibbe,” said Jamie.

“It’s just,” said Zoe, “I can’t imagine what happened out there.”

“I’m no’ sure what happened either,” said Jamie.

“Did it – do something to you?” said Zoe. It was still difficult for her to think of the Sea as sapient, let alone capable of that kind of danger. It was alive, but inert. Looking at it she’d felt nothing but healthy unease.

“It just talked tae me,” said Jamie. “I wasnae scared. I knew what was happening and I didnae mind,” he said, his voice growing distant. He seemed to shake himself, and said, “aye – well.”

“For what it’s worth,” said Zoe, “I’m glad you’re still here.” He hadn’t answered her question but she was starting to rethink whether she wanted him too.

“Aye. Me too,” said Jamie.

“And please don’t do it again,” said Zoe.

“No fear,” said Jamie.

“Zoe!” called the Doctor from the control room. “Jamie! We’re landing.”

On the scanner screen, Zoe saw the sea. A real, normal sea, blue and rippling and infinite, edged by a crisp white beach. She found she ached for some space around her, ached to feel the wind, and judging by the look on Jamie’s face he felt much the same.

“I think we could all use some fresh air,” said the Doctor, already stepping out of his shoes. “Oh! Shall I fetch the buckets and spades?”

“Aye, if you like,” said Jamie.

“Beautiful day,” said the Doctor as he bustled about. “And no-one about – we should have it all to ourselves – shall we?”

Pulling a lever on the console, he opened the external doors and together they stepped out of the TARDIS towards that shimmering sea.


End file.
